From the Office and Backyard to the Road, Boat, or Plane–Backstories and
Side Stories While on Assignment. Updates on Personal Projects, Too.

About

Sandy is a fan of great photography and design, and printed pieces remain a favorite format. In addition to writing projects, she’s a producer with Peter Frank Edwards Photographs. She earned her B.A. in Journalism from the University of South Carolina, and studied fiction writing at California State University and in Charleston.

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Archive for September, 2010

09.13

2010

At a food truck in Hanalei, this was the $9 mixed plate on Saturday – chicken lau lau, kalua pork, lots of purple poi, lomi-lomi salmon (best with gobs of poi), mac salad, and a dessert square made with coconut milk, taro and sticky rice. Actually much of the plate was sticky. And delicious… the taro leaves wrapped around the chicken have a smoky, artichoke taste. For another buck, the root beer was a good wash with it all.

From Princeville, the view of Hanalei Bay, for the moment… the sky and light changes fast here.

His name is “Moo” and lives with his owner near Moloa’a Beach, on the north shore of Kaua’i.

Here’s a doorless helicopter view of some of the ancient mountains of the once-volcanic Na Pali coast.

Not long before sunset at Hideaways Beach… the reward for the steep and slippery hike down the narrow path from Princeville. (Watch out for the broken railing in places, the thin ropes.) That’s PFE on the left. Tom, a local surfer and musician, brought us to this special patch of beach that’s shouldered by a rock ledge. As the sun fell, we all stood in the coarse-grained sand and sunglow and talked a while – of small houses, big surf and a Steinway piano (that’s another story).

09.11

2010

North of Hanalei, almost all the way up the coast road on Kaua’i, we came across some local men and women fishing from the beach. They’d stretched three nets, one inside the next, and brought each net in slowly – walking from neck deep water to the beach, as waves rolled in over their backs. The closer the line of fishermen got to shore, the crowd grew.

The catch was made, and it was a big one. Someone went for a pick-up truck with a tub in the back that they’d fill with saltwater and the flopping, silver fish – the mountains of Na Pali towering behind as they worked. Old men with wrinkled faces held and pulled the red nets, along with younger men and women, many from the same family. Once the fish were on the beach, even toddlers helped to carry them to buckets and then onto the waiting truck. It was a good catch, they said, and then they drove off to take it to market.